


Versatile

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People wonder why, with all the fine firepower available at SHIELD, Agent Barton insists on using a bow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Versatile

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [avengerkink for the prompt:](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/4305.html?thread=3774929)  
> Clint is the only SHIELD agent to use a bow and arrow instead of a gun. Why? How did he get around the regulations, and what did the other agents think when some guy showed up with Robin Hood's weapon instead of a proper one?

"Why the antique?"

"It's not antique. That's the most modern bow science can produce. I've seen the expense report, trust me."

"Ok, fine, not antique. But why? It's not exactly subtle."

"Depends on your definition of subtle. And Barton was apparently trained to use a bow from childhood. I only got a glimpse of his background before Fury slapped about five more levels of classification on it, so don't ask me any more about it."

Agent Harrison looked down into the firing range, where some of his co-workers were squeezing off their required number of rounds. Barton was there at the far end, that huge quiver on his back, putting arrow after arrow into the target at the end with a look of absolute boredom on his face.

"I get it, the guy's got a sniper's eye and he's freakishly accurate, but why not just get him a rifle? He'd be great!"

Agent Garrison (yes, they got flack for being friends, Harrison and Garrison, Harry-Gary, and whatever other nicknames people could come up with when they were bored) snorted at Harrison.

"You've been on the far side of a rifle before. You want a good shot, what do you need?"

"Sights, tripod, wind direction monitor, spotter... Yeah, ok, I catch your drift. But it's not like wind isn't a big factor when your ammo is that big."

"When isn't it? At his range it's rarely a factor."

Harrison snorted softly. "The range off that toy is shit compared to a rifle."

"We're _spies_ , dumbass. We generally get closer than a mile."

Harrison conceded that with ill grace, but ticked another point off his hand. "Hard to hide that bow in a holster."

"It fits in a smaller case than most rifles."

"Yeah, doesn't do you much good when they take it from you."

"Neither does a gun. We're trained for that too."

Harrison shook his head. "Yeah ok, but he still has to haul around another damn suitcase for his quiver for as many shots as I have in three magazines that all fit on my belt. And his rate of fire is crap."

"You've seen guys get up after getting shot, right? If they're armored, or round is too small, or they're too pumped? Those arrowheads go through Kevlar like paper, and leave a bigger hole than anything we're allowed to carry on a regular basis. They're one-shot people-stoppers; rate of fire doesn’t matter when they don’t get back up again. And he never has to stop to put on a silencer either."

Harrison raised his eyebrow at Garrison's vehemence, and both broke off their discussion as a bell chimed in the range below. The agents backed away from their firing lanes as Barton tightened the straps on his quiver and held an arrow on a slack string. The lane dividers moved up into the ceiling, making the range open, and targets began appearing and disappearing, moving, darting, and weaving. Barton ran, fired, rolled, fired, twisted, turned, sending off arrow after arrow, until his quiver was nearly empty. Another chime and he paused. A second after that, half the arrows exploded, taking every remaining target with them.

The agents below clapped in appreciation. Above, Harrison was watching with his mouth open.

"So, think you can do all of that with one weapon?" Garrison asked smugly.

He knew he couldn't do that with anything less than four, including a grenade launcher. Harrison held up his hands, laughing in defeat.


End file.
